


Wallpaper

by Edgemont



Category: Veronica Mars (Movie 2014), Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: Decisions, F/M, Falling In Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-14
Packaged: 2018-02-03 06:19:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1734236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Edgemont/pseuds/Edgemont
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick and Mac meet cute.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Divided Loyalties

Mac sees the car first, pulled over to the side of the winding coastal highway. It is a magnificent white Maserati and the hood is open. The driver is bent over the engine, his head hidden from view. Mac slows down and pulls her Mini convertible over to see if she can help. She sees the driver’s face. _Dick. Uh oh. Too late, he has seen her. Well, I can at least offer to call Weevil. He’d like to get behind the wheel of that car._

Dick looks agitated. “Oh, Mac, hey. My car’s broken down,” he says redundantly. 

She waits for the crude comment, the insulting nickname. Nothing. 

“Have you called a tow truck?” 

“If you’re thinking of Ronnie’s bald burrito, forget it. Gianfranco should be here soon. Problem is, my lawyer’s coming to the house in half an hour. I’ve been calling him to explain but he isn’t picking up. If I miss this meeting, I’m screwed big time.”

Mac doesn’t ask what sort of trouble he’s in that requires a house call from a lawyer on a Saturday afternoon, she’d rather not know. _Exploiting undocumented immigrants? Paternity suit? Sexual harassment complaint?_ She weighs her options. Helping Dick somehow seems disloyal to Veronica. She doesn’t quite understand the full backstory of Dick and Veronica’s mutual antipathy, isn’t sure how Dick is even involved, except as Cassidy’s brother. But she knows that Veronica barely tolerates Dick and this seems to involve more than just general disdain for his partying or crude comments. _He’s Logan’s friend, she reminds herself. I can’t just leave him here._

“Look,” she says, as the tow truck comes into view. “Hand off the car and I’ll drive you home. Maybe you can still make the meeting.”

Dick is clearly relieved. “Sweet” he says. “You rock”. He deals with the tow truck and slides in to the passenger seat of her car, fumbling around to move the seat back as far as it will go. Mac pulls back on to the highway. She asks for directions to his house and he gives them. Logistics taken care of, an uncomfortable silence fills the car. She has no idea what to talk about with Dick. Surfing? Beer? Boobs?

He breaks the silence first. So….you’re into computers and stuff?” Clearly he is also at a loss.

“Yeah” she concedes. She wants to say: _I am into more than computers. I like dancing and Bond films and a three-layer slurpee. I like inside jokes and staying out all night and books where the shy girl gets noticed in the end._ But she stays silent, keeps her eyes fixed on the road.

They arrive at the house, it’s on Manzanita Drive, one of the most exclusive locations in Neptune. Houses walled off from the road by high hedges and fences, with the beach at their doorstep. It is at least another 20 minutes of winding coastline before she will be able to find a gas station. _Peeing is not disloyal,_ she assures herself. She asks to use the bathroom. “No probs,” Dick says. “follow me”. She trails after him into the house. He motions down the hall – “first door on the left.” She braces herself for frat house squalor – used condom on the floor? Vomit in the sink? The bathroom is spotless. Clearly the maid is earning her keep.

Curious, she takes a peek in the bedroom across the hall. She’s not sure what to expect – mirrors on the ceiling? No. A king size bed with that kind of expensive white bedding that always feels crisp and cool. Enormous television on the wall. A few clothes strewn about the wood floors. Book on the bedside table. A book? Now that is interesting. She really wants to know what it is, as if the title will tell her something important, something determinative. But she is afraid of getting caught snooping. She’s no Veronica.

Curiosity piqued but not satisfied, she emerges back down the hall into the kitchen, pausing to look at a photo on the fridge of Dick and Logan on the beach, their surfboards stuck in the sand. She wonders who took it. Veronica? No, probably Carrie. The house is amazing. Not huge – it’s actually kind of cozy. But the windows, the view, the deck - incredible. She wonders for a second what it would be like to wake up in a place like this. _Admiring a house is not disloyal. Veronica has woken up in this house, after all._

Her thoughts are interrupted by the sight of something more beautiful that the view. It is sitting on the marble counter, slim and shiny in a unique white gold hue. She recognizes the symbol on the back of the laptop. _It can’t be._ “Is that a Ryeo3? I didn’t think they were available outside South Korea.” 

“I guess so. I think I have a stake in a company that owns the North American distribution rights. They sent me one, anyway.” 

Mac is agog. She cannot help herself. _Coveting the world’s fastest and most powerful laptop is not disloyal._ “I would so love to get my hands on that,” she says, regretting her choice of words instantly.

“I hear that a lot.” Dick says with a thrust of his pelvis. _There we go, Dick is in the house._ “Help yourself – I can’t get it to work right anyway. Maybe you can fix it.”

She seizes the machine and goes over to the sofa, kicking off her shoes. She is soon busy downloading software patches and reconfiguring the computer so it defaults to English rather than Korean, which seems like a necessary first step if Dick is ever to use it. She sets the wallpaper to a collage of unicorns and rainbows.

Her work is disrupted by the sight of Dick pulling off his shirt. She gets the impression that Dick is most comfortable in as few clothes as possible. Or maybe he thinks it best not to meet with his lawyer in a “Drinks well with others” t-shirt. She can’t help but sneak a look. Dick has a beautiful body. She’s never really understood Veronica’s physical attraction to Logan. Too tall and slim for her taste. _He has eleven different smiles,_ Veronica had said of Logan, once, in a rare girly moment. That Mac could understand. Still, she likes her men with a bit more heft to them, solid guys with broad shoulders. Dick reminds her of those seals on the beach in La Jolla. He takes up space.

The doorbell rings. The lawyer has arrived. Dick grabs a light blue golf shirt and pulls it on. Her cue. “I’ll go, I can finish this another time.” 

“You’re cool. Stay. It’s fine.” He seems to want to keep her there. He answers the door and ushers the lawyer in to the house. 

“This is my lawyer Jerry, Dick says, motioning to the grey-haired man who walks into the kitchen. He turns to Mac. “And this is Mac, my….” _friend of a girlfriend of a friend?_ Mac supplies silently. “IT consultant,” Dick finishes. Why does this description disappoint her? And then, quite unexpectedly, Dick winks at her. Why does that make her blush? _Stop blushing,_ she tells herself, _blushing is disloyal._

Dick and Jerry the lawyer sit at the kitchen island. She hears snatches of the conversation. The laptop has long since been fixed but she stays anyway. _Eavesdropping is loyal, not disloyal. Veronica needs to keep Logan from being associated with anything sketchy._ She hears Dick saying things like “asset to debt ratio” and “public offering” and “capital cost depreciation”. It is like his brain has been inhabited by another person. At one point he even corrects his lawyer –“you mean twenty percent of net, not gross”, and Jerry the lawyer actually agrees, apologizes for his mistake. It is surreal.

Papers are produced and Dick opens a kitchen drawer and pulls something out. _Oh my god. Reading glasses._ He puts the glasses on and studies the papers. Mac’s stomach flips. _Why is she having this reaction? Admit it, he looks hot. Involuntary physical reactions are not disloyal._

Dick signs the papers, shakes Jerry the lawyer’s hand and shows him to the door. “Dude, I just made 6 million bucks today. Guess you did all right too.”

She admits to herself that she is just the tiniest bit into Dick right now. But what possible choices does she have in the face of this attraction? They are stone cold sober. What if she tries something and this time, he rejects her? To be rejected by Dick, who gives every indication that he will sleep with any woman on planet Earth, would be humiliating. He probably has a type anyway, big hair and fake breasts, whatever it is must be the opposite of her. She wonders if he’s ever been in a real relationship. Could they actually go out somewhere, in public?

He comes over to the sofa where Mac is sitting and flops down next to her. “So, is it purring like a kitten?” he asks, gesturing toward the laptop but looking at her breasts. “All fixed”, she confirms. He looks uncomfortable. _I think he is trying to decide if he should offer to pay me. God, no._

On impulse, to avoid him making such an offer, she asks, “if you had to give up alcohol or surfing for life, which would you choose?” It’s an old game, and a dumb question, but she wants to talk to him about something other than the computer and has no idea how to start. He doesn’t hesitate – “Alcohol. I could never give up surfing.” She expects a glib explanation, something like how he’s sexier surfing than drunk, but instead he says, “Surfing is mastery and submission at the same time. And surfing is the one thing I’m good at. Really good. It’s like the father of surfing, Duke K said, ‘Out of water, I am nothing.’” He looks at her, then looks away, out the glass doors toward the waves.

Mac smiles. “I’m pretty sure it’s not the only thing you’re good at.” She suddenly feels bold. “In fact after what I saw today, I’m pretty sure you’re good at two more things at least.” He gets her meaning, meets her eyes again, grins his lopsided Dick grin. _Sometimes having one good smile is enough._ He leans forward and kisses her, on the lips but soft and quick. This time, she lets him. He doesn’t try to push it further, just says, “Thanks for everything today. I mean it.”

“Anytime”, she says, getting up and putting her shoes back on, hoping that she is giving off an air of breezy confidence rather than stumbling about as her head spins.

She’s almost out the door when he calls after her – “I get a question too.” Mac nods, trapped. 

“Do you ever get tired of being the loyal sidekick in someone else’s story?” he asks. 

She could be pissed off by this question, but she isn’t. She gets why he would ask it, she really does. “Depends on how the story goes”, she says. “Sometimes the sidekick steals every scene he’s in.” 

She drives home feeling more alive than she’s felt in a long time.

The package arrives for her at the office on Monday morning, thankfully while Veronica is out. She opens it and sees the glint of white gold. A new Ryeo3. There is something else in the box, sort of cylindrical in shape and wrapped in paper. Some sort of peripheral? Too light. She unwraps the bundle. Red licorice. _Could he actually have remembered?_ It’s not until later that night that she has a chance to boot up the new computer. She’s not the first, as it turns out. The wallpaper stares back at her, the photo slightly distorted because the aspect ratio is wrong, she notes automatically. It’s a photo of Dick in a t-shirt that reads “I Have Candy”. She allows herself the gift of deciding nothing, at least for one night. And for the first time in just about forever, she falls asleep smiling.


	2. Pirate Pride

Two days go by before she calls him, two days during which he has enough time to regret it, tell himself that she is smart enough to realize it was all a joke, just playing around. Hell, she knows he didn’t have to pay for the laptop, and a fist full of candy she probably doesn’t even like anymore is hardly a diamond engagement ring.

Dick has been thinking about weddings lately, not his own of course, but his posse is surely shrinking as his frat buddies move in with girlfriends, rein in their partying, and even get married. His high school crowd has shrunk in other ways, of course. He was supposed to be an usher at Gia and Luke’s wedding this summer. Now Gia is dead and Luke has lawyered up, waiting to see if he will be charged as part of the frame up of Logan. What high school friends Dick has left, well he’s not so keen to return their calls anymore since he figured out all they want is the gossip, their voices dripping with fake concern. At least when Veronica questions him it has a purpose.

He feels restless, even more so with Logan away. He needs to mix things up. That was why the afternoon with Mac had got to him, he tells himself. He was lonely and she was just so…nice. And so different from everyone he knows. He could never understand why Veronica was such a hater about people with money. Dick likes having money, life is better with it than without it, and he likes to be with other people who have money too. That way he never has to worry that the money is what they like him for. Mac doesn’t seem to care about money, why else would she leave Kane Software to work with Veronica? She also doesn’t look like any of the girls he’s ever been with. He's not sure how to describe her look, kind of punk? glam rock? urban pixie? Anyway, it could never work between them. _Everything we have in common, I’d rather forget._

He goes out to the 09er, it’s Monday but the place is still packed. He drinks too much and works the room and wakes up the next morning next to a platinum blonde whose spray tan is coming off on his sheets. Rachel? Rochelle? Raquel? If he mumbles, it won’t matter. He’s called the car service before she’s even awake. It’s cleaner that way.

When the phone rings later that morning and the caller id says “C Mackenzie” he doesn’t even know who it is at first. Her voice is quiet and she rushes the words out. “Um hi, Dick, it’s Mac. I just wanted to thank you so so much for the computer. It’s amazing. You really shouldn’t have done that. It’s too much. But it’s amazing. Also the candy is great. Was great, I guess. Also the wallpaper. Very funny. Anyway, thanks.” He hears her draw a breath. He realizes that no girl has ever told him that a gift was “too much” before. He has no idea what to say. He tries to sound relaxed. “No biggie. I get them for free anyway.” _No, no you idiot. That sounds awful. Damn it._ He regroups. “And I remembered you used to eat that licorice in college all the time.” _Also bad, who wants to be remembered for eating candy?_ “Not that you’re fat, or anything. You look hot.” he finishes lamely.

Mac laughs into the phone. Has he blown it? “Thanks, I guess,” she says. She hesitates, as if she’s trying to decide something. She continues, “Friday. Neptune High’s basketball team is in the playoffs for the state championship. Wallace is coaching. So I’m going to cheer them on.” A half-invitation. He is suspicious. 

“With Ronnie?” 

“No, she’s working a case. Besides, Neptune reunions and Veronica don’t mix. So I was just going to go solo.”

“Oh”, he says, “yeah that could be fun.” When he finds out where she lives he regrets offering to pick her up. It’ll be an hour of fighting traffic in one direction only to turn around and fight a half-hour back in the other.

He arrives at some sort of old brick loft conversion not far from Gia’s place. _Where Gia used to live._ He could never figure out what Gia was doing living down here, but he gets it now. Cobb liked her out of her comfort zone. He wonders, not for the first time, what he would have done on that boat if he hadn’t already been passed out when they found Susan. He pushes the thought away.   
Mac is already waiting on the sidewalk. She’s wearing cropped skinny jeans and black Converse sneakers and a tight-fitting Neptune Pirates t-shirt. She’s carrying a black hoodie. Her hair is swept across her forehead. She grins shyly at him. He feels something he can’t name, nerves and excitement and anticipation mixed together. 

****

When the black Mercedes SUV pulls up (the Maserati is still waiting for parts), Mac is surprised to see that Dick is soberly dressed, in low slung jeans and a t-shirt from some beachwear company, his hair expertly tousled. She feels silly for having worn her Pirates shirt. The conversation in the car is better this time – they limit themselves to five minutes of talking about Veronica and Logan, manage to find some common ground over preferred radio stations, favorite roller coasters, a shared dislike of camping. They arrive at the gym, which is filling up quickly with supporters of the two teams. They squeeze into the bleachers just as Wallace catches her eye. He startles a bit at the sight of Dick, but true to form, regains his composure and comes over. 

“Hey Pirate fans. Can’t dawdle – gotta show Clemmons why Coach MacDonald needs to stay on sick leave. Too bad Buccaneer Bill’s home with mono – we can’t whip up the crowd as well without a mascot.” 

Dick grins. “Stand back, Coach Carter. I can get you a cheering crowd”. He whips off his shirt – of course - and Mac sees that he has painted a Jolly Roger flag across his stomach. It’s not perfectly done ( _Did he do it in a mirror? Did someone help him? – please, please not Madison Sinclair_ ). Wallace laughs, says to go for it but keep it G rated, heads back to the bench. Dick runs down onto the court, waving his hands in the air. The crowd laughs. He does three backflips in a row. The crowd roars. The dance squad is around him now, shaking their pompoms. 

Mac feels someone next to her nudge her hip. Veronica. _Oh no._ “I managed to wrap things up early. Didn’t want to miss Wallace’s varsity coaching debut, even if it did mean coming back here and having to watch Dick feeling up the dance squad.” With the crowd suitably motivated by another series of Dick’s flips off the mini trampoline, he comes bounding up the stairs, stopping dead at the sight of Veronica next to Mac.

“Ronnie. This is unexpected. I thought you’d be home sexting Logan. Or are you thinking of trying out for the dance team again? Not sure they have a cougar division.” Veronica shoots back. “Dick. Is that a poison symbol you’ve painted on your chest? At least the girls can’t say they weren’t warned.” As always, Mac is unclear if it’s just banter or pure venom. She laughs weakly. Dick looks off into the distance, as if he’s catching someone’s eye, and says “Gotta get back to my homies. Later, ladies.” And just like that, he disappears into the crowd and is gone.

She doesn’t see him for the rest of the game and the dance team is left to their own cheers. Mac can’t believe Veronica was one of those pep squad girls once, a hundred years ago, arm in arm with Lilly Kane. Mac never knew Lilly, except from afar, but she knows how Veronica remembers her, aglow, the source of all fun and adventure. _You are my Lilly_ , she thinks, looking at Veronica as they file out of the gym after Neptune’s upset victory, _but we’re not seventeen anymore._

Dick’s been home for two hours when the phone rings. C Mackenzie. _Damn_. “Hey.” is all he can manage. “Hey?” she says. She doesn’t sound mad, more worried, which surprises him. “I left my jacket in your car.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry. I can drop it off sometime?”

“I’ll take it now. It’s cold out here.”

He opens the door and there she is. He pushes past her and walks out into the courtyard in front of his house, unlocks the car, grabs the hoodie from the passenger seat, hands it over. She slips it on but doesn’t move. They stand there in silence for a long awkward moment. Finally, she turns to leave.

“Wait,” he says. “Don’t go.”

She wheels around. “Why did you take off? I thought we were…watching the game together”, she says carefully.

“Veronica and I aren’t exactly besties, Mac. That’s your team.”

“We aren’t in high school anymore, Dick. There are no teams.”

“Actually we were in high school tonight, as I recall. And Ronnie’s not the only one who’s tired of reliving it.”

She steps forward and she can see that his eyes are bloodshot, can smell the alcohol on him. She wraps her arms around his chest and hugs him.

Dick stands there on his front step, under the porch light, breathing in the smell of her, something sweet and spicy, like gingerbread, and his arms are around her tiny waist and he doesn’t know whether to send her home or bring her inside and lose himself in her. The decision is made for him because he can feel the sob rising in his chest, and he pushes himself free. He barely says “I gotta go” before he’s inside and closing the door, sliding down it to sit on the floor. Mac stands on the other side of the door, hearing the muffled sounds, not knowing what to do. She knocks but he doesn’t answer. Finally, she drives herself home.


	3. A New Beginning

The next day, it’s Dick’s turn to find himself standing on the doorstep, screwing up his courage to ring the bell. He’s driven in to Neptune proper and already spent about 20 minutes in his car trying to decide if he should go through with it. He glances over at where he has parked, glad the car is in view, the neighborhood is kind of sketchy. He presses the bell. She answers, her blond hair piled up in a ponytail, a stack of papers in her hand. He can see the instant look of panic in her eyes when she sees him standing there. “Logan?” Veronica asks. Is he…? _She really does love him._ Dick cuts her off. “Logan’s fine. He’s probably in his bunk, clutching a lock of your hair and whispering your name. I need to talk to you about Mac.”

She motions to the step –“ join me in my home office,” she says. He hears Mr. Mars yell, for probably the thousandth time – “honey, is everything okay?” She yells back, “You bet, just a persistent girl scout.” Veronica and Dick sit down, and Dick starts in on what he has rehearsed a hundred times in the car. “I want to ask Mac out. I’m kind of into her.”

“And you want me to convince her to go out with you? I’m a detective, not a hypnotist.”

“No, it’s just….look Veronica, I am not a good person. I bullied Beaver so bad that he did terrible things. I put drugs in Madison’s drink and she gave it to you and you passed out….”

Veronica cuts him off. “Dick, I know all these things. I don’t want to go back over them now. That was a long time ago.” 

“You don’t know. Nobody knows what I did. I goaded Beaver to rape you. Then I left him to it.” There. He has said it. What he could never say to Logan, to his shrink, to anyone, he has said to Veronica. 

Veronica looks at him in stunned silence, her face crumpling into a mixture of grief and rage. 

Dick presses on.

“I wouldn’t have called it that back then, what it was I was telling him to do. But that’s what it was. I didn’t think about you at all. I am so so sorry. I’ve never been able to say that before. I know it was a long time ago, but I never owned it. I never told anyone that part, ever. You can tell Logan, I guess. Or Mac. Maybe don’t tell Weevil - that guy is hard core." He smiles weakly. 

They sit there, side by side on the front step of Veronica’s dad’s house. Veronica is silent for a long while. She has of course always suspected that Dick was a big part of what happened to her, but she could never really know for sure until now. The worst part of that night is the black hole of lost memory, the not knowing.

Veronica has never been much for forgiveness. Or secrets. But she sees the two paths in front of her very clearly. One goes forward and the other goes back. She looks at Dick. “When I was with Gia, that night she died, she told me what happened on the boat. I asked her about you. If you knew about dumping Susan’s body, if you were in on it. I realized that I was praying that she would say no. I was so relieved that she said no, that you were totally clueless.”

“Why?” Dick asks. “I’d have thought you’d be happy to hear it was me”.

“You can be a total ass. But you are not evil, Dick. You stood by Logan when I left town, and again when he was arrested. You were there for him. Which is more than I can say for myself, until recently. And you weren’t the only one who did some really fucked up things at that party that all came my way in the end. I don’t need to tell anyone what you did. It won’t help me and it won’t help you. You’ll have to live with it and it looks like maybe that’s been enough. If Mac has been struck in the head by lightning and agrees to go out with you, I won’t interfere. But if you even think of hurting her, I’ll make you pay. And we both know that coming from Veronica Mars, that’s never an empty threat.”

He throws his arm around Veronica’s shoulder, pulls her toward him. “Maybe Logan wasn’t completely mental to carry a torch for you all those years.” He adds, “You know that day he picked you up from the airport, from New York? He came back to my place and I asked how it went. He said seeing you again felt better than flying. Also that he was glad I told him to wear the dress uniform.” It’s a small gift, but he can tell from her smile it was the right one. He’s halfway to his car when she calls out – “Mac’s a vegetarian. No rib joints.”

Mac’s phone rings just as she’s come home for the evening. R Casablancas. She answers. "Dick, hey. Everything ok?" He sounds normal again. “Totally. I figured some stuff out. Will you go out with me tonight, just me and you? Casual. I’ll be there in an hour.” He hangs up before she’s sure she said yes.

He arrives at her building and this time she buzzes him up. He looks around the loft apartment. " I like it, nice place", he says. "You could have rocking parties here." Mac has never had a rocking party in her apartment, she’s never had more than 3 people here at one time, but she supposes that’s true. She’s thinking he looks amazing. He’s combed his hair back neatly and he’s wearing a white t shirt and a green v-neck vest that looks like it’s spun from some sort of fine, soft fiber that only rich people are allowed to use. His khaki shorts are just tight enough. She’s spent the last hour going through her closet, caught in that gap between too dressy, too scruffy. She’s wearing the good, matching underwear and she’s shaved her legs. She’s chosen a navy blue scoop neck top and cream colored drawstring linen pants. She’s not sure when she became such a girl.

They head downstairs and get into the SUV. (The Maserati has turned out to be a lemon and is being sold.) They wind their way out of town, Dick refusing to tell her where they are going. She hopes it does not involve paintball. Or his 09er crowd. Of the two, she’ll take the paintball. They chat about nothing in particular and soon they’re out of the city, flying past strawberry farms and groves of almond trees. Then she sees it – the Stardust Drive-In.

"I didn’t know this was still open," she says with appreciation.

"Yup," he says. "And they’re doing a Star Wars marathon this week. Tonight the Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi – it’s the last night in the series." They pull into the field, gliding over the ridges in the grass, careful of the kids who are running around, some in costume and engaging in spirited battles as they wait for the sun to go down. Dick parks so they’re facing away from the screen. “Tailgate party”, he announces. He opens the rear door and they clamber in. She can see that he has brought blankets and pillows. He hands her a cardboard box. “I brought food. Hope it’s okay.” She’s sees the Red Radish logo. Neptune’s Vegetarian Caterer. “I love this place. I can eat everything they make. How did you know?”

“Ronnie told me,” Dick says. “I told her I wanted to ask you out. She’s cool with it.”

“You asked Veronica for permission to date me, she says?” He can’t tell if she’s pissed. “Not exactly permission,” he says. “Jesus, Mac, I’m afraid of her.” To his relief, she laughs. “You should be.”

They watch the kids play as they eat. “You didn’t bring your lightsaber,” she teases?

“That’s not what girls usually call it,” he says. “Although, it is about three feet long and I don’t want to scare anyone.”

She’s learning not to be fazed by this. She allows herself to glimpse of a future of dirty jokes and extravagant gifts and boundless energy and some low, dark moods. “Does it glow?” she asks. “Blue? Green?” He winks and she moves closer. It’s dark now and the previews have started. He scoots over and throws his arm around her and she leans against his chest, her cheek brushing against the vest woven from the threads of baby silkworms that are hand fed with organic mulberry leaves. They watch the film in silence for a while, interrupted only by Dick’s observation that Yoda looks like Coach MacDonald, which is true. And then he can’t wait any longer and neither can she and they kiss, long and slow and deep.

The part of Dick’s body that usually makes decisions for him is telling him to shut the door and lower her on to the blankets and forget about the movie. It’s not as if the ending is a surprise, he thinks. Darth Vader is Luke’s father. The dad is evil and the son with the messy blond hair has to fight the pull of the dark side. Dick has lived it, he doesn’t need to watch it. This time, though, his brain joins the conversation and tells him to wait until he really knows for sure. He comes up for air, smiles at her. “I hope there’s free refills on that.” She grins.

“Look Mac,” he says, because her hand is on the waistband of his shorts and if he doesn’t say something right away, lower Dick will win out, "I gotta tell you that Dick Casablancas doesn’t usually have sex on the first date.” She raises an eyebrow. “That’s ‘cause I don’t usually bother with the date. But this is me and you. And we’re going to do it right. Let’s find out if we can actually stand being together first.” He kisses her again and turns back to the movie. “Watch. We don’t want to miss the part where his hand gets lopped off.”

When the movie ends, he aks her if she wants to stay for the second one. She smiles sleepily. “It’s pretty late and we have a long drive back.” “Thank God,” he says. “Those Ewoks give me the creeps.” They move back to the front seats and drive out of the field, back home along the winding roads. He’s still not sure he can do this, but he’s sure he wants to try. 

They see each other every couple of days, they go sailing, or to the beach, or they make dinner and he’s starting not to miss the meat. He’s never done any of this before and he’s never gone this long without sex. He’s waiting for a sign. It happens three weeks later. They are at his place, finished dinner, doing nothing in particular. She’s using his laptop to check her email or hack into the Pentagon or whatever it is she does, and he’s going through some financials for a meeting the next day, wearing the stupid glasses that he needs now to read fine print. He told her he was planning on laser eye surgery so he wouldn’t need them but she reacted pretty strongly against that idea. Apparently she had a friend whose eyes were permanently damaged. Maybe he’ll wait.

He’s bored after ten minutes and wanders over to where she’s working. The wallpaper on the desktop. She’s replaced his waves (that replaced the unicorns) with a selfie. She’s smiling at the camera, pointing at her chest. She’s wearing a t-shirt that reads “I want candy”. "Hey," she says, "you weren’t supposed to see that until after I left.” He pulls her to her feet, kisses her hard. “Don’t leave, Cinderella, he says softly. Stay with me tonight.” She nods, they’re both a bit shy all of a sudden, and he takes her hand and leads her down the hall to his bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea if this works or if it's worth taking Mac and Dick any further. Comments very welcome.

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure what I think about Mac and Dick together. I like the idea, but the execution requires that each of the characters reach in new directions. This is my attempt at imagining some very slow first steps.


End file.
